


i typed your symptoms into the thing up here

by mushydesserts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad Decisions, Camping, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, combat fails, inconvenient game mechanics, prompto get away from that thing, someone needs to keep all of them on child safety leashes, sometimes you are just miserable and need to nap in a pile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 15:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushydesserts/pseuds/mushydesserts
Summary: "Buddy, I think it's upside-down," Prompto pointed out, peering around his elbow at the paper."It's not, I'm navigating," Noct snapped, wrenching it away. "You turn maps tonavigate.""Which marker are we heading for?" Gladio said, sounding weary."Which..." Noct looked closer. "Why the hell are there two markers?"(One morning, the boys all come down sick. They all, independently, decide that they're going to hide it from everyone else. Laughter through tears is the best medicine. Kinkmeme fill, complete.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Or, the ridiculous sick fic. 
> 
> Written for [this](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4113.html?thread=6124817#cmt6124817) meme prompt.

 

 - GLADIO -

Gladio woke up first, which was the first indication that something was wrong.

Gladio stared at the canvas tent above him in the darkness. To his left, Noct was snoring away, and Prompto was a pile of gold fluff poking out of the sleeping bag just beyond. Ignis was nothing but a dark shadow lying at the other end of the tent.

Gladio wasn't a heavy sleeper by any means, but he never woke up first. Ignis always had his alarm set at some ungodly hour, and Ignis was always already awake by the time it went off — so he really did it just to torture them, Noct had concluded — but Ignis wasn't up, and the alarm hadn't gone off, and he couldn't hear any monsters outside, and the Imperial airfleet hadn't seemed to have found them in the middle of the night, so what was Gladio doing awake?

Gladio tried to figure it out and couldn't. His head was pounding with the effort of it. He frowned.

Other than restlessness brought on by stress or adrenaline, the last time he'd been unable to sleep through to morning had been years ago, when he'd been seventeen, and he'd spent three nights up because Iris had the flu and he was up with her in the bathroom at all hours while the poor kid had puked her guts out. And then when she got better, he still couldn't sleep properly, and it hadn't really bothered him until someone threw him through the mats and into the next room at the Crownsguard training hall half a week later, and Cor had been so alarmed that he'd sent him to the infirmary, where the doctors had patiently explained that...

Fuck.

Gladio pressed a hand to his forehead.

Okay, so maybe he was warm. That's all a fever was, right? Being warm never stopped him from doing his job. Hell, he was warm all the time, that was why he hadn't bothered packing a sweater on this trip (or more than one shirt, really). It'd be fine.

He rolled over and went back to sleep.

 

 - IGNIS -

Ignis woke up wanting to set his own face on fire.

He woke when his alarm went off, which was, he reflected dimly, alarming in its own right. He never woke up with his alarm. He always set it slightly later, for a pleasant gradual awakening. This morning, his awakening was neither gradual nor pleasant.

He sat up. Everybody else was still asleep, which was to be expected; Prompto was starting to twitch, but still buried inside his sleeping bag, and Noct was, of course, dead to the world. Gladio at the other end of the tent had an arm thrown over his eyes.

Ignis rubbed his temples, and then his throat. It felt like he'd swallowed a swarm of killer bees. His skin was tight, his muscles stiff.

With all that had been going on lately, it wasn't entirely unexpected. Frankly, he was shocked none of them had come down with any significant illnesses thus far. It was about time. He just hadn't expected it to be him.

He considered his options. They had been hoping to take on a couple hunts today to fund the acquisition of supplies for the next leg of their travels. This was Imperial-occupied territory, so they didn't have the time to linger for very long, if they hoped to remain undiscovered. Due to their lack of resources, and their hopes of staying unnoticed as they went, they had taken to camping rather than staying in outpost motels — which meant that everybody had to pull their weight.

Noct provided the magic, and occasionally the fish. Gladio took point on the hunts, and Prompto provided support. Ignis provided the strategy. And he liaised with their outpost contacts. And he organized and stocked their supplies, and he kept up with the news. He mended their gear, and he prepared their meals... and he drove on most days. And honestly, he kept the other three from killing themselves on a near daily basis.

So, his options were: to push through, or to let this whole journey fall apart, the last hope of Lucis to be found dead in a ditch by the side of the road a couple weeks after he left his bride-to-be stranded at the altar.

Ignis sighed and picked up his glasses.

 

 - PROMPTO -

Prompto had been awake the entire night.

He'd felt the tickle in the back of his throat around dinnertime last night. Oh, no, he'd thought. He recognized that tickle.

If he'd been at home, he'd have gone to the store right then, bought a jar of honey, a bag of ginger, a box of tea, a tub of ice cream and a few litres of soda, ordered three boxes of takeout, put an entire pot of noodle soup on the stove, crammed himself into a corner of the couch and curled up under a blanket for like. Three days. The best cure. The only cure. The Prompto cure.

But here they were in the middle of nowhere, not a gil to their names, no roof and no hot shower, not even any extra socks, and Prompto felt the panic settling in.

It settled in his stomach during dinner along with the excellent curry Ignis had made them, and it sat there throughout the evening, and it stayed there when he'd yawned and gotten into his sleeping bag and zipped himself up cheerfully, and it churned there throughout the next six hours, as he'd huddled in a ball between a snoring Noct and Ignis, pretending to sleep and trying his utmost not to cough.

He was mortified. He was a Crownsguard! He was _Noct's_ Crownsguard! Crownsguards didn't get sick! They got bravely felled in heated battle, or sacrificed to protect King and country, or maimed and left to linger on the brink of death until their weeping comrades brought them before the King to be saved at the last moment with tears and magic. Or something. They didn't get brought down by the _common cold._

He dreaded the morning. What if Ignis and Gladio got up, and they saw Prompto with his sniffling, runny nose and watery red-rimmed eyes, and realized that they'd made a mistake? What if they dropped him off at the next outpost with a gentle, _sorry, kid, you couldn't cut it?_ Prompto liked to think Noct would stop them from leaving him on a mountainside to die, like in that book about the roaming people that led their old and weak into the wilderness to live out the rest of their days in solitude when they began to slow down the tribe, but Prompto _had_ been taking an awful lot of photos of Noct falling off his chocobo recently.

It was clear, Prompto thought glumly. There was only one thing he could do.

When Ignis' alarm went off, Prompto exhaled, stretched with an exaggerated yawn like he hadn't been stewing in worry instead of fast asleep for the last twelve hours or so, popped out of his sleeping bag brightly, and knocked the lump that was Noct on the shoulder.

"Rise and shine, buddy!"

 

 - NOCT -

Noct groaned.

He couldn't tell whether everything hurt because the weather was just shitty, because of the wyvern hunt they'd been on yesterday, because of that huge-ass fish he'd spent all afternoon trying to pull out of the nearby lake, because he'd fallen asleep funny in the car on their way back, or because Prompto insisted on being _this fucking chipper_ at five in the morning and Noct's muscles were protesting out of sheer spite.

Or maybe it was because he was sick with something. Whatever.

"C'mon, dude, sun's waiting!"

For a minute, Noct considered pulling the _I'm sick_ card.

Prompto would hover helplessly, he knew, and then suggest like twelve ideas for making Noct feel better that would undoubtedly just make him feel worse. Gladio would probably think he was faking it to get a few more hours of sleep, which was _unfair_ , because he hadn't done that for _at least a week_ now, and then once it became clear that Noct wasn't faking it, Gladio would act all guilty and fuck off to kill about a thousand monsters to get gil for a stay in town and probably get his ass kicked by a behemoth out in the valley by himself.

Ignis would try to feed him _vegetables_.

Noct shuddered.

"Noct?"

Realizing he couldn't put it off any longer, Noct resigned himself to his fate, and did what any healthy, hale, well-rested twenty-year-old king would do upon being roused on a shining new day.

He groaned, hid his head in his sleeping bag, and stuck his middle finger up in the air.

"Fuck off."

 

 - GLADIO -

Gladio scowled.

After going down to the river to freshen up by dunking his entire head into the freezing water until he couldn't feel the tiny imps zapping the inside of his skull anymore, he'd come back up to the campsite to pack up, check his mobile for news (nothing except the usual foreign op-eds about the Fall of Insomnia, a response to his check-in with Cor, and a short update from Iris), and then join an energetic Prompto and a moody Noct for breakfast.

Ignis had outdone himself. Fried spiced garula patties, dualhorn sausage, soft-cooked birdbeast egg on toast, and fried Leiden sweet potato hash, all glistening on plates under the sun. Steam still rose lightly from the sear on the meat. It looked magnificent. Delicious.

Gladio sniffed at a forkful and tried not to hurl.

The _fuck_ was this? Why wasn't he hungry? He'd eaten on time, every time, day-in-and-day-out in the Crownsguard training mess, no matter what slop landed on his plate. This was good food! It was hard-earned. They'd hunted down the ingredients themselves. And it wasn't as if there was much selection out here; he couldn't afford to get picky now.

Six. What he'd give for a pack of Cup Noodles.

He tried another forkful and managed to force it down without his eyes watering too badly. He swallowed and looked across the way. Prompto and Noct were shoveling their breakfast down, and Ignis was watching him curiously over a mug of coffee, as if trying to figure out if something was wrong.

Gladio gave Ignis a pained smile. "Good stuff," he managed. Ignis nodded his thanks, looking pleased.

Gladio looked down at the plate. How many more forkfuls was this? Maybe nine? Ten? He could do this.

Gladio reached for the pepper.

 

 - PROMPTO -

Prompto pushed the food around his plate and tried not to panic.

The food was good. It was always good. Ignis was the best cook who'd ever lived, and Prompto would eat his breakfast three meals a day, every day, for the rest of his life, if it didn't mean he couldn't have Ignis's lunches or dinners.

But he just didn't feel like eating today. And he _always felt like eating Iggy's cooking._

That was the problem. If he left anything on his plate, they'd _notice._ And they'd ask if anything was up, and he'd have to say he didn't have an appetite, and they would immediately assume that he was either sick or an impostor, or maybe that he was moping about Cindy again, which, fine, he always was, but who wouldn't? Still, lying on the ground for a while going through his photographs and then rolling over with a sigh wouldn't cure it today, and then they'd know something was definitely wrong with him.

Prompto nibbled at his toast and tried not to gag. He grabbed his orange juice and took a swing to wash it down.

If he just... held his breath... it wasn't so bad. Slowly. That was the key.

Prompto glanced around. Gladio was eating grimly and resolutely. Ignis seemed to have finished and was sipping his coffee; Prompto sometimes wondered if Ignis was actually some sort of coffee-fuelled cyborg who couldn't ingest real food properly, and thus cooked for others in search of a sort of vicarious joy, but that was besides the point right now if Prompto was just trying to get away with dialling it back.

Noct was eating, too. Prompto eyed him hopefully. Sometimes he requested seconds and Prompto would give him his leftovers, but Noct was still working happily on his first plate. Might have something to do with the marked lack of vegetables in the meal.

Prompto sighed.

Prompto chewed. Prompto gulped.

 

 - NOCT -

Noct tried desperately to find something in his food that would justify him picking at it and eventually shoving the whole thing onto Gladio's plate, but there was nothing. Nada. No carrots, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, lettuce, peppers. It wasn't even mushy. The meat was cooked _just right._

Noct frowned sourly. Why did Ignis have to be _nice_ to him sometimes? What'd he done to deserve it on _this_ , of all days?

Whatever. Shiva. Maybe he could pretend he'd developed an aversion to dualhorn. And eggs. And bread.

But he _liked_ garula, damn it. And sweet potato was just about the only thing with leaves that he could stand. What if Iggy stopped making this stuff?

Noct grimaced.

Well. Better put in an effort.

 

 - IGNIS -

Thank all the gods, Ignis thought with relief, as the other three scarfed down their meals with hearty determination, that nobody seemed to have noticed that he'd burned everything to a crisp and thrown out his own portion.

He wouldn't have been able to force it down, anyway.

 

 - LESTALLUM. -

They made it into town just before noon.

Ignis had dutifully taken the wheel, Noct having designated him as the driver in hopes of napping off whatever was wrong with him in the back. Noct hadn't managed to get any sleep anyway. The roads were rougher than he'd remembered, and he spent the whole trip clutching the side of the Regalia and trying not to lean over it to hurl. Thankfully, Prompto seemed to be in one of his more thoughtful moods, and had zoned out staring out the window instead of trying to get Noct to talk. Gladio seemed happy to doze, too, only waking briefly when someone apparently cut Ignis off on the road and caused him to curse softly (this made Noct jump, too, or maybe it was that wide swerve that nearly knocked his stomach out of his body; he couldn't be sure).

By the time they pulled into parking, Noct felt like he'd been put through a blender and poured back into his boots. Ignis looked a little apologetic when he dropped the keys back into Noct's hands, but thankfully didn't comment on how frazzled he looked.

"Meet back here in half an hour?" Noct had suggested.

"Sure thing," Prompto had nodded eagerly, and Ignis and Gladio had hummed their assent, and so now Noct was by himself in a corner of the sweltering marketplace, trying not to bump into anyone and blinking up at the tipster he'd managed to track down.

The man looked at him curiously. Noct tried to focus on what he was saying. He seemed to be waiting for an answer.

The man seemed concerned. "I said: are you all right, boy?" he repeated.

Noct blinked. "Yeah, we're firn. I'm fern. Fine. Is there like a. How many gil for the — for the megaloclaws?"

"Four K, maybe five?" the tipster said. "Might've gone up since last night, since nobody's taken it."

"And..." Noct rubbed his temple. That ringing noise was killing him. "How many do we have to get rid of?"

"Five."

Shit, he was having enough trouble seeing _one_ of this guy. "What was the other one?" Saberclaws? "How many saberclaws?"

"Nine."

Astrals. "Do you got any that's just like, one? One monster?"

The tipster frowned and flipped through his notepad. "Nah, nope. Not seeing... gaiatoad? People are only reporting that one for rainy days, though... malboro? Grootslang? Grootslang?" He grimaced. "Don't even know what that is..."

Noct dropped his hand and winced. "How much?"

The tipster squinted and let out a whistle. "26 K."

"You're sure? For one?"

"Think so."

Noct sighed. "How far is it from here?"

 

By the time Noct made it back to the car thirty-four minutes later with the bounty sheet stuffed in his pocket, Ignis was waiting, arms folded, leaning up against the side of the Regalia.

Noct's steps slowed as he got near. He craned his neck and looked around curiously. No sign of Gladio or Prompto. "Where's everybody?"

Ignis unfolded his arms, looking tired.

Gladio, it turned out, was straight-up drinking three cartons of cup noodles like beer over at the Cup Noodle Stand. He wasn't even using chopsticks, or a fork, or anything. The vendor was watching him with a sort of morbid fascination.

"Gladio, what," Noct protested. Gladio held up a hand in the 'done in two' signal.

Ignis, taking pity on the vendor, dropped a coin in her tip jar. Noct rolled his eyes and gave up in favor of searching for the other missing member of their party.

Prompto turned out to be the next street down, where he was kneeling, sniffling, and petting a big fluffy dog. The dog was chewing determinedly at his boot, and didn't appear to have an owner. Noct looked around, hoping someone would appear to rescue the dog from Prompto so they could be on their way.

"Prom, you don't even know where it's been," Noct said. A man and a woman, giggling and slightly drunk, stumbled past. They took a look at the dog and steered clear. Noct shifted his weight.

Prompto let out a coo. "Noct, look at him! He's fine, he's friendly! Aww, who's a good boy? Who's a fluffy boy?" He scratched behind its ear. The dog gnawed, growling slightly. "You want a tummy rub? 'Course you do..."

"Prompto — "

"Noct, he's so soft, he's like a soft — "

"Fleas, Prompto, we're leaving — "

"Don't listen to him," Prompto cried, flattening the dog's ears. It let out a howl.

Noct marched back out to the parking lot. Ignis had moved in the intervening time, and was now standing near a picnic table, fixedly watching a woman eat a bowl of soup. Noct squinted between Ignis and the woman, who thankfully hadn't seemed to notice him. Either that, or she was trying very hard to pretend she hadn't.

"Specs?" Noct mouthed.

Ignis didn't answer, eyes somewhat glassy. "Must be cumin," he mumbled over the woman's shoulder. "Lard. Lentils. That's it. I — "

Gladio let out a muffled yell behind them as Prompto's dog mauled his grocery bag full of cup noodles. There were the sounds of a brief struggle, followed by Prompto's horrified cry.

"Sorry," Ignis said, snapping out of his reverie. "Are we driving? Noct?" He glanced back at the dish.

Noct considered driving, and fleas, and cup noodle seasoning, and the way Ignis looked like three Ignises when he tilted his head slightly to the left. Ignis continued to stare at the food.

Noct pocketed his keys. "Chocobos," he said tiredly.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 - CLEIGNE? -

On their way out to the hunting grounds, Noct got stuck in a riverbank.

Ignis's chocobo shot straight through a river, leaving him dripping for a good half-mile afterwards. Gladio fell off his and was briefly left behind when none of them noticed until three fields later. Prompto fell off a cliff. There was a moment of upset on everybody's part, but it turned out his chocobo had managed to flutter down fine; it still took him an extra hour to get back up to the path, and Prompto had twigs in his hair for the rest of the day.

Even the fucking chocobos seemed to be having a bad time of it, Noct reflected. Maybe he should've rented from a different post. If his head hadn't been pounding so badly, he might've circled back for replacements. As it was, getting there was already taking long enough.

Possibly too long. Longer than expected. Maybe exponentially so.

"Have we arrived?" Ignis prompted after Noct pulled up for the third time in ten minutes to try to get his bearings. Ignis asking _are we there yet?_ was never a good sign. Noct frowned at the map.

"Should be," he said. He looked around. There was nothing in sight except a very wide cliff face and a copse of trees. He looked back down, offended.

"Buddy, I think it's upside-down," Prompto pointed out, peering around his elbow at the paper.

"It's not, I'm _navigating,"_ Noct snapped, wrenching it away. "You turn maps to _navigate._ "

"Which marker are we heading for?" Gladio said, sounding weary.

"Which..." Noct looked closer. "Why the hell are there two markers?"

"Here, this one's the one with the hunt, right? See the symbol?"

"Mother of — what's the other one for?"

"Shall we turn around?" Ignis said. There was a thump and a stream of cursing as Gladio fell off his chocobo again.

Noct gritted his teeth.

 

 - CLEIGNE. -

"Fuck!"

"Get down! Get — "

"Two! Why are there two? I thought you said — "

"The tipster said it was one!"

"26 K for one monster? Why did you even take this?!"

"Was it 'grootslang'? Plural? As in, two or more?"

"He said he — he didn't know what it was," Noct said, flushing.

"I'm with Prompto," Gladio said, looking slightly green. "Shouldn't've taken it."

"Thanks for the input, Gladio, maybe if you hadn't been making out with a styrofoam cup — "

Prompto took a step and swiveled his head around. "Guys, where'd the chocobos go?"

 

 - KELBASS GRASSLANDS. -

So, other than the fact that Prompto moaning _oh Noct, oh Prince Noctis, please give me some of your healing juice!_ on repeat was, to date, the phone alarm audio most likely to successfully wake him up in the morning, here was the thing Noct had figured out about healing.

As his dad had been fond of explaining in their few lessons together, the Line of Lucis carried magic in its blood, but that magic manifested differently for each individual. It was something to be discovered, not trained into. Each King would wield it differently, and that was true of both offensive and defensive magic, of magic used to attack and magic used to heal; previous Kings and their advisors had developed certain best practices in the arts of healing, but their successors would adapt and adjust those techniques to suit their own strengths. Regis and Noctis would continue in this tradition.

Making Phoenix Downs knocked Noct out for about a day. He'd determined on this trip that he could do a few at a time, maybe even four or five when he got going, but it took him a while to find his focus; it didn't matter whether it was one or a half-dozen, he'd need a nap afterwards and would be completely unresponsive for the rest of the day. As such, they'd set aside some time every so often to restock — just a day or two spent camped on a haven over energy deposits, Noct concentrating in a corner with a few six-packs of energy drinks cracked open at his feet.

Potions generally provided a quick boost that could get you over a mid-calamity injury for long enough to get to safety. They wouldn't heal whatever was wrong with you, but they'd keep you on your feet, which was usually good enough for the time being. Elixirs could actually fix shit up if employed within a reasonable amount of time, and as such they took a bit more finesse and effort to slap together. These were Noct's standard mixes, and they were usually sufficient for getting everybody through a fight.

The problem was — as they'd learned after a fun encounter with a hvitomr and some very large bees — that when you were down for the count with something that was fucking you up from the inside, there really wasn't much point in chugging any of the good stuff. You'd feel better for maybe a half minute before it started to get to you again. Poisons, toxins, whatever: you really just had to wait them out, or take a break, drive into town and find some proper medical attention.

Ha! Proper medical attention.

Anyway, Noct thought as he stared down the grootslangs — grootslang, whatever — and cracked his neck, it was a good thing he'd had those Spirit ZX on him to pop on the way down. He was pretty sure a potion wasn't going to do shit for his stomach right now, so hopefully this wouldn't take too long.

"Right," he declared. "Let's get this over with."

 

Wrangling the Armiger turned out to be the first obstacle.

"Noct, you uh, you got my Valiant?" Prompto shouted from across the way, peeling himself off the grass.

Gladio hacked away at the tail of a snake as Noct tried to wrestle its snapping jaws away from his face. He leaped, did a somersault, and landed on his ass. "What? What've you got?" Noct yelled back.

A blast of ice and fire singed and froze Noct's t-shirt to his skin in response. Gladio was knocked off his feet. Ignis shouted as the blast of steam hit him, and the snake hissed in irritation.

"Sorry," Prompto called guiltily, and Noct thanked the gods Prompto's aim was good enough that the blast radius didn't seem to have hit anybody important anywhere vital. "Uh, nothing, all out!"

Noct cursed and swiped for his sword. "Hang on, I got — " He rapidly juggled sword, daggers, firearm. "You got it?"

Prompto swiped something out of the air. "Cerberus! Noct, I don't need it for — "

"Giant snakes, got it," Noct groaned. "What about the Noiseblaster?"

"It's in the puddle!"

Noct tried to peer through the ice and was swept off his feet by the second snake. Gladio ran to block for him, skidded on the frost, landed on his side, slid past him and knocked over Ignis, who was still trying to unfog his glasses on his shirt.

"Never mind," Prompto said weakly, and slinked off to find a good sniper's angle as they cursed and tried to untangle their limbs.

 

"Potion!" Gladio shouted twenty minutes later.

Noct, breathing hard, paused for just long enough to toss him a bottle. Gladio caught it gratefully. Noct turned away.

There was a crack of thunder, a blinding flash, a searing blast of wind. Somewhere on the perimeter, Ignis threw himself to the ground. One great serpent struck the ground dead, its body limp and smoking.

Gladio made a strangled, injured noise from beneath the corpse. "Potion," he managed, shoving upwards, white in the face.

Well, that was where that thundaga quintcast had gone. Noct cringed and rummaged for an elixir.

 

The sun was shining full-on now directly overhead, heat waves wafting up from where they were close on to drying the flash-frozen grass out completely. Noct squinted against the glare. He couldn't see shit.

"Specs!" Noct tightened his jaw, twisted his shoulders, and dug the polearm into the writhing, scaly flesh beneath him, the second monster trying its damndest to buck him off. "Ignis! What's your — _guh_ — what's your analysis?"

"Stab it!" Ignis hollered.

Noct spluttered. The tip of the spear made a cracking noise.

"More!"

Noct toppled off the snake.

 

With great effort, Noct freed his foot from one of the holes left behind by the burrowing monster. Slowly, painfully, tried to make his way into cover, dodging the great coils of the snake as they swept overhead.

The sound of shots rang out. Gladio roared, trying to shove his sword down the grootslang's throat. "Prompto! Help Iggy!"

"I got him! I got him! I — AH!" There was a thump.

Gladio twisted around. "Noct! Prompto's in trouble!"

Noct hissed, stopped limping, changed directions, and started limping again.

 

"How long," Gladio bit out over his shoulder. "How much longer?"

Noct wiped his hair furiously from his eyes as he fiddled with a beetle shell behind the shield. "Just a little..." Fucking beetle shells, why did they have to be so _small?_

There was a crash to the left. "Cutlasses, Noct!" Ignis shouted. A flash of light; a pause. "The other ones!"

Noct looked up in confusion. The grootslang burst out of the ground six yards away with a sound like a volcano erupting. The beetle shell slipped out of his hand and was lost in the grass.

 

_"Who's got the ribbon?"_

"Noct does!"

"What? I don't have it!"

"I don't!"

"Nor do I — "

_"Who's got it?!"_

 

"Noct! Imperials above us!"

"NO!" Noct shouted, staring directly at the sky.

"NO!" he shouted again, as Ignis slammed into him, allowing him to narrowly avoid having his head bitten off.

 

There was a splatter of gore and a loud, wounded screech.

"Holy shit!" Prompto said excitedly. "Holy shit, I got it! I shot it in the mouth! I shot it — "

"DO IT AGAIN," Noct boomed, covered in muck and blood and pinned solidly to the ground. A magitek assassin's daggers whooshed by to his right.

"Got it! Reloading!"

"DO IT NOW," Noct groaned, and choked as mud got into his mouth.

 

Two hours, two weeks, two eternities later, the fallen snakes lay across the churned ground of the battlefield, various armored corpses littered before them.

"Da-da-da-da da da da da-DA," Prompto said thinly, teeth chattering.

The nearby foilage, or what was left of it, was variously wet, charred, or shredded and stuck all over their clothes. Empty elixir bottles were strewn around the site, reminiscent of the morning after a patio party that'd gotten really out of hand. The four heroes stood, leaning on their weapons, surveying the scene.

"At least it was kind enough to take out most of the Imperials for us," Ignis panted as he leaned against a boulder.

"Ngh," Noct let out, and swiped the potion from Ignis's hand.

 

 - KELBASS GRASSLANDS 2: MORE GRASS, MORE LANDS. -

So, that hunt had gone relatively well, Noct thought.

All things considered. The targets were dead, they were alive. All they had to do was get back to the tipster to turn in the evidence, possibly bitch a little at the man for inaccurate information, and collect their paycheque. Job well done. Twenty-six _thousand_ gil. They might even be able to splurge on a proper hotel room! A hot bath! Real blankets! Maybe Noct could lie down and his intestines would stop trying to kick him in the nuts! He felt cheered by the very thought.

As they dragged themselves upright, Prompto suddenly looked up, as if sensing something.

"Hey, guys," Prompto said. "Guys, I think our chocobos are back!"

Noct looked up, relieved. Finally, something was going right. He fished out his whistle and rubbed it against his shirt to get most of the muck out of it. He blew.

A tuft of yellow feathers darted between two bushes. A _cheep_ ing noise echoed softly once, then again. Ignis looked up from where he had been resting, bent nearly double, hands on his knees.

Noct paused. That wasn't a chocobo sound.

Prompto took a step forward. The bird peeked out from around the leaves.

"Aw, no," Prompto whispered.

The bird was tiny, round, fluffy and dark-eyed. It nosed timidly out a few steps into the open air, hopped, and hopped again. It _looked_ kind of like a chocobo chick. But what was with the stripe?

"That's not a chocobo," Gladio announced, as if coming to the conclusion after a long and carefully-considered discussion.

"I know," Noct said sourly. The bird _cheep_ ed, shied away, then peeked at them again.

"What is it?" Prompto said. "Was it... was it hiding from the grootslangs?"

"Grootslang," Ignis corrected. "You might be right. Now that the threat is gone, it's seen fit to emerge."

Prompto tilted his head. "Is it lost?" It tilted its head at him in turn and let out another mournful _cheep._

"Hopefully," Ignis said.

_"Dude."_

"Iggy's right. I don't see parents. That's good," Gladio said, rubbing his neck and wincing. "Don't want to have to deal with that."

Noct merely frowned and flicked the whistle. He blew it again. Honestly, where were the chocobos? Their rental time wasn't up for at least another two days. His bird had seemed a little irritated with him right from the start, too. Last time he was ever renting from that place.

"But what do we do?" Prompto was crouching, arms wrapped around his knees. The bird was slowly approaching. It probably thought Prompto was another one of its kind, what with the hair and all. "Do we just leave him? What about the daemons?"

"It's a good few hours 'til sundown. Hopefully, it'll have found its family by then."

"And we'll be long away," Gladio said.

"You are all _heartless,"_ Prompto said, put out.

Noct looked down at his hands. Something occurred to him.

"I'm using the wrong whistle," Noct said.

Ignis, Gladio and Prompto all turned to stare at him.

They turned back to the bird. _Cheep,_ it said.

"Well," Ignis said. "Honestly, this could have gone far worse, I suppose."

 

As they trudged awkwardly back towards the road, the bird hopped alongside Prompto, half-hidden behind his knee as if it could feel the heat of the others' disdain. Noct eyed it with some measure of despair.

"We're going to have to leave it at some point," he pointed out half-heartedly. It shrank back slightly, as if it could understand him, and Noct immediately felt like an asshole.

"Well, it's not my fault it's following us," Prompto returned hotly. "What do you want me to do, gravisphere it?"

Noct winced as the bird let out a sad whistle of distress and burrowed into Prompto's calf. "It's gonna follow us back into town," he said.

"Hey, safer there than here, right?"

"A town full of hunters, need I remind," Ignis said from up ahead without looking back. "It might not find itself amongst friends upon arrival."

"It's gonna get eaten," Noct clarified.

Prompto made a noise of outrage. "How could you _say_ that? Nobody'll eat it," he argued.

"Hm," Ignis said, sounding very personally skeptical.

" _Ignis_ ," Prompto admonished. "It is _way_ too cute to eat."

Gladio was rubbing his temples. "It is pretty cute," he grudgingly admitted. Ignis threw him a pissy look, which Gladio resolutely ignored.

Both Prompto and the bird perked up, as if heartened by this admission. "It is, right?" Prompto said brightly. "Who's a cute chocobird? Like a chocobiiiird!" To Noct's dismay, he was beginning to adopt the Prompto Talks To Small Animals Voice. Worse, the bird seemed to be responding, emanating a new, affectionate energy. It hopped happily from one foot to the other, and prodded Prompto's hand with its beak.

Prompto beamed. "Guys! Guys, it's _so_ cute. It's — "

Prompto stood up, raised his rifle, and shot the cliff face three feet to the left of Noct's head.

The roar of the shot rocketed across the plain. Noct, frozen to the spot, didn't turn his head to look at the crater that he could _feel_ smoking in his peripheral vision.

Noct didn't blink. He seemed to have lost track of his eyelids.

Prompto paled. "Sorry," he stammered. "I don't know what I was — "

Prompto raised his rifle and aimed again.

Gladio leapt for Noct, Ignis flung himself at Prompto, and Noct threw himself out of the way.

"What in the fuck," Noct said from the ground, and then turned to watch in horrified fascination as Ignis drew a throwing knife, whipped it at Prompto's arm — a disarming throw, he could tell, no more force than necessary — and missed completely, the blade richocheting off Gladio's broadsword instead.

Gladio summoned his shield. Noct scrambled to his feet.

"What — what's going on," Ignis demanded, sounding unsure and completely bewildered. "Gladio, where's Noct?"

"I'm right here," Noct said, and Ignis stared at him as if he'd never seen him before.

A crackling, blood-curdling _screech_ echoed across the entire valley then, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.

All of them whipped their heads skyward, and all hell broke loose.

 

Gladio landed on Noct first. Noct felt the air driven from his lungs, rock digging into his ribs; Gladio providing cover was nothing new, but something was wrong here, and a moment later, the edge of his broadsword biting into Noct's neck spoke to what, exactly, was wrong.

Noct's shortsword did its job stopping the blade, his wrist wrenching at the angle, and Gladio blinked down at him. "Sorry," he blurted, and pushed off, straightening up for a second before Prompto took him down with a flying roundhouse kick to the head. Noct rolled over and gasped, trying to focus on where the screeching and the thumping beat of wings was coming from.

In the first and only seven minutes of the battle, only Ignis actually seemed to land a hit on the blur of blue-green feathers and talons that whirled through them like a maelstrom. The rest of them seemed to almost exclusively take hits from each other. Gladio got walloped by the beast's tail more than once, Prompto gave up on the guns in favor of his gravity machinery after clipping Ignis on the shoulder, and Noct was pretty sure the slice just above his knee was Ignis's doing, though he couldn't say exactly when it had happened.

Noct wiped sweat from his eyes and leveled his throwing star at someone, no one, squinting blearily at the spot where he swore the creature had been. A blur of gold danced in front of his eyes. "Stay fucking still, Prompto — " he gritted.

"I'm over here," came the distant reply.

Noct turned on the spot. "Where — "

A loud, inhuman squawk and a rush of wind, bits of grass swirling through the air. "Noct!" someone shouted. "Watch out for the — _oof — "_

"Holy shit!"

"Iggy — don't — "

"Stay back," Ignis shouted, swinging his polearm wide.

There was a clash of metal against metal, and a yelp. "Fuck," Gladio said, muffled swear. "Potion!"

The world seemed to flip itself over. Noct shut his eyes tightly, fumbled with his Armiger, closed his hand around a bottle, and tossed it in the direction of Gladio's voice. He opened his eyes in time to see, in the tilt of the ground and sky, a dark Gladio-shaped figure reach out.

Gladio caught it, chugged it. He threw the empty bottle away. He paused, hand on his knee.

"Salad dressing," he said, voice coming out slightly hoarse.

"Shit," Noct said.

 

A quick rummage of the Armiger, and then of his actual pockets, later, Noct recognized with dawning dread that actually, actually, this one wasn't his fault. Well, not exclusively his fault, anyway.

"I'm out," Noct declared flatly.

There was an ominous whooshing noise. "Out of what?" Ignis demanded faintly from some distance away.

"Antidotes," Noct said. "Elixirs. Anything." At the cold silence that followed, Noct spluttered: "Nobody told me to stock up!" They all knew by now that Noct only kept track of the curative stock via how tired he was after whipping up a set; that was why it was their job to _remind_ him.

"I thought Gladio and Prompto had gone shopping," Ignis started, and then there was a pained, guilty grunt from Gladio, and a conspicuous quiet from Prompto, as they all remembered how that shopping trip had ended.

The wings of the beast were hovering somewhere above, and now a low sound came, a deep rumble, like a purr. Noct tried to remember how many moogle dolls he had left.

Something plopped on his hair, a big, warm, wet splash. Was it — was it _raining?_

Noct looked at his hand. He looked up at the others, who seemed to look back at him through a thick mist.

The beast roared again, and with the understanding that they weren't being paid nearly enough for this, the boys turned on their heels and fled, each of them in a different direction.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 - PROMPTO -

Prompto had to admit that this one was probably his fault. His bad, fine.

He picked idly through the underbrush, shielding his hair half-heartedly from the light drizzle that was spitting from the darkening sky. If nothing else, the water might clear his head a little. There he was, thinking maybe he'd finally lost it with the fever and all, and it turned out Not Chocobos just did that to everyone. Who knew?

People were always telling him not to pick up stray animals even in the city, let alone in the wilderness, _in the wild,_ and yet — and yet — well, sometimes they were small and fluffy and big-eyed, and a little confused-looking, and clearly from somewhere else out there, but utterly lost, and they'd make odd sad noises and look like they were trying to figure out where to run to and hide, and Prompto saw them and thought _hey dude same,_ and that was — what could you do about that? _What?_

So okay, maybe he was better at staving off that impulse when he didn't have a bucket of mucus sitting somewhere behind his eyes and his throat.

The immediate danger being over, the thing to do would be to regroup, which posed its own set of problems.

He had tried his phone, but either the reception out here was spotty, or none of the other guys had their phones on. Or maybe they'd gotten lost or crushed in the whole thing with the grootslangs. Grootslang. Things. Honestly, Prompto would be shocked if that wasn't the case for at least somebody. Luckily, the valley wasn't too big, and if they all just headed for higher ground, they'd probably spot each other before sundown. And then... well, they could worry about _and then_ at that point, probably.

More immediate concern: he'd picked up a friend.

Another one.

"Hey, little guy," Prompto said to the tiny creature that was hopping alongside him now, stopping every few feet to stare at him forlornly. Prompto's foot stuck in the mud for a second, and he tugged at his boot, winding up with a handful of tall grass for his trouble. "Froggy. Froggo. Toad? Toadle-woadle-doo. My man. Wo-man, I don't know?"

The frog blinked dispassionately at him, throat working.

"I uh, I guess I should stay away from you," Prompto continued. "Noct keeps telling me to not pet things, and the last time it happened, it uh, it didn't go so well."

Silence.

Something occurred to Prompto. "You're not like... a _person_ , are you?" Prompto said warily. No response. That seemed reassuring, at least. "How about I go this way and you hop that way? No?"

Well. He'd spent a lot of time pretty friendless as a kid. Being lonely was tough. He didn't want that for anyone.

"Hey, you know what? I was a toad once," Prompto said.

 

 - NOCT -

 _Motherfucking shit dick balls_ , Noct thought as he squinted at the landscape around him. _Astrals._

He stared down at the map.

 _Oogle bloogle,_ it said. _Blert land. North. Waturr._

Noct rubbed his eyes.

 _Bleurghle wargle,_ it said. _Woom swamp. South. Sned._

Noct crumpled the map and headed for the first hill he could see.

 

 - IGNIS -

Ignis stood at the edge of the decrepit parking lot, surveying three cleaned-out automobile hulls and one tan ME 746-model sedan that was, on the whole, surprisingly intact.

Ignis looked upwards. To the left. To the right. There was nobody around. Down the road, the sun was setting, last bloom of light cutting through the sprinkling of rain; most people would be finding a town or an outpost to crash at about this time. This area wasn't particularly well-travelled these days, anyway.

Ignis's fingers twitched.

 _Should_ he?

Usually, he wouldn't, but surely driving would take them round the area faster than wandering around like so much monster bait. And it _was_ getting late.

The car had a rack on the roof, as if for lugging equipment — or bounties. A hunter's vehicle, possibly. It was in good shape, barely a dent in the bumper or a crack in the windshield — but the wipers were caked in dust, and the wet sprinkling of leaves on the roof and bonnet suggested that it had been out here for at least a few days, forgotten or abandoned. Whoever had owned it was clearly missing and might not be back for a good while.

Maybe whoever it was was dead. A sobering thought.

Ignis didn't often observe religious ceremony, but there were times, he acknowledged, that one ought to be respectful.

 _Goddess Etro, guide this poor soul,_ he thought. _Her Light find them, should the Chaos of their Hearts lead them astray. Her Rest be upon them long as Time comes, Her Sleep eternal; Her Providence be etcetera, etcetera._

He drew his thin dagger and slammed it into the space between the door handle and the body of the car. The locking mechanism opened with a click.

"A life well-lived," he finished, and pulled open the door to get to work on the dashboard wires.

 

 - GLADIO -

Gladio woke up and slid off the bark of the tree he'd been leaning up against, leaving a long red scrape down the side of his abs.

 _Engh,_ he thought blearily.

 

 - PROMPTO -

Prompto walked along, frog in one hand, Valiant in the other, chatting idly. The frog seemed unperturbed by the bumpy ride.

" — I mean, isn't that kind of a weird idea anyway? Is there a dude word for maiden? Yeah, hey, you're telling me. Anyway, we get wind of this hunt that people _say_ comes with a Phoenix down reward. And not _just_ Phoenix down, but _Mega Phoenix_ down. What's the difference? I don't know. I mean have you ever seen a Phoenix? Like for real. Not like, the feathers you get on the keychains at the gas stations — oh, wait a sec — "

With a resounding _bang,_ a hovering killer bee made a distressed _whzzz_ ing noise and fell out of the sky fifty paces away. Prompto sighed in relief.

" — bugs. Seriously, can't stand them. Anyway — "

 

 - GLADIO -

 _"Noct._ Prompto. Hey."

Gladio winced at the sound of his voice. He cleared his throat, listened. Nothing but echoes and the sound of dripping rain. He took a breath and tried again.

"Hey. Iggy? _Guys."_

Nothing. Where the hell had everybody _gone?_ He opened his mouth, sucked in.

"Oi — ?"

Gladio choked on a wad of phlegm, made a terrible dying wyvern noise, and coughed with his head between his knees for ten minutes.

 _Okay_ , he thought weakly. _Different strategy it is._

 

 - IGNIS -

Upon opening the door of the car, a scent began to waft out. It was stale, but it wasn't a dead-body-in-the-trunk scent, Ignis cautiously ascertained. Ignis sniffed and stuck his head in.

The floor of the vehicle was covered in a fine dusting of dirt, wood chips, sand, gravel and dead leaves. The windows weren't tinted so much as nearly opaque with fingerprints and caked grime. The back seat was littered with, in no particular order: empty chip bags, empty juice packets, empty soda cans, empty styrofoam cartons, empty biscuit boxes, empty hot sauce bottles, empty weapons grease tubes, and one full plastic container of what looked like pickled cabbage stolen from a food stand.

Ignis's headache got worse.

"Good gods," he said softly, offended.

 

 - NOCT -

Halfway across a ridge that was both way too steep and way too rocky to walk up but way too sandy to climb, Noct's stomach growled.

"Oh, no you don't," he declared, jaw tight. "You weren't hungry earlier, you don't eat now."

His stomach growled again pathetically as his feet slid a couple inches across a patch of pebbles. _Ignis,_ it moaned. _Help me. Ignis. Feed me._

"You shut up," Noct grunted.

 _Iggy's porridge,_ it groaned.

Well, that was justified. Ignis used to make it whenever Noct was sick back at home. It was pretty good once you picked all the green onions out. But fat chance of getting him to make any of it on the road — or rather, in the middle of _nowhere._

"Could've said that this morning," Noct muttered at his stomach. "Good food, guess I _won't_ enjoy it? Guess I'll just leave it unfinished on my plate? Getting what you deserve, huh? Jackass."

It occurred to Noct that he was talking to himself, and also, telling himself to fuck off.

"Fuck you," Noct hissed. "No, _you —_ " Noct missed a step, flung his arms out, and tumbled in a heap to the bottom of the slope.

Lying on his back with a clod of mud smushed against his cheek, Noct's stomach whined again.

Noct rolled over furiously. "No. Fine!" He picked himself up, dusted himself off, and tromped off with dignity. Whatever. He'd find another way up.

 

 - PROMPTO -

" — like the time we were up in Keycatrich — ehheh! it's like the sound Gladio makes when he sneezes, don't tell him I said that — so like we're thirty-five floors down in this place by this point, right, and all the food and stuff is back at the campsite, and there's the three of us behind the grate, right? And I say, _I'm not kissing him, you kiss him,_ and the big guy's like _Hell no!_ and then Iggy goes — "

 

\- IGNIS -

The pile of trash on the ground beside the vehicle was growing.

It was growing in the sense that Ignis was adding to it, the initial sorted piles of recyclables, biodegradables and landfill items slowly merging into one large aggregate mass; and it was growing in the sense that it now contained lifeforms that were not strictly inert.

Ignis shook a fleck of some sort of goop off one of his gloves and frowned. Was it trying to crawl along the pavement? Well, good luck. It wouldn't get very far across the lot overnight before the sun came up, if indeed the sun did rise on time, and then it would be just another smear of dried organic matter, cooked on the tarmac along with the numerous earthworms the earlier rains had sprouted.

Cooked. _Cooking..._

Something burbled lightly under one of the rubber mats.

Setting aside the mental itch, Ignis went back to his task.

 

 - NOCT -

Noct crouched with his knuckles jammed into his cheek and his elbows on his knees as a garulessa, a garula, and a school of garulets crossed the narrow ledge at a very leisurely pace.

He checked his phone for the time. LAW BUTTERY, it said. The ledge he was under provided a slight bit of shelter from the rain, luckily, which meant that he had now been sitting still for long enough that he was starting to dry off. The squelching from his boots was starting to lessen, and his hair gel was starting to goop up his shirt collar.

There was grass in his boxers. He could feel it. He frowned and tried to scratch surreptitiously.

The garulessa turned towards him and snorted loudly. The garula moved into defensive position. The garulets all jumped and made distressed bleating noises.

Noct stilled and sighed.

 

 - GLADIO -

Gladio bent over. "Ke- _chuch,"_ he sneezed.

 

 - NOCT -

By the time the herd had moved off, Noct had decided was finished with crouching. He was finished with climbing. He was finished with trying to pull his boots out of sinkholes and muck, and with flicking wet straw out from under his fingernails, and with trying to avoid dung heaps, and with finding mosquitoes glued to the ends of his hair.

The landscape slanted up before him, mocking him with its unscalable slopes, mocking his stomach and his limbs with its dizzying angles. Noctis heaved himself up and leaned heavily on one of his greatswords. He wasn't sure which one it was. Hopefully it was one of Gladio's. Noct wasn't going to clean it off properly, that was for sure.

There was no way he was finding his way out of here by just wandering around in the dark. If he could just warp to the top of the bluff, he could see where...

Well, hey, it wasn't like he was about to get _more_ tired than he already was; why not? _Good thinking, Noctis._

Noct hefted the sword in his hand, readied himself, and magicked it into the air. The weapon glowed, washing the ground nearby white with the crackle of static, hissing on the back of his neck. Noct felt the connection to the metal in that split second, the slice of air against his cheeks, the moment of his feet leaving ground, weightless.

Noct threw the blade, flinging himself after it.

Noct missed.

 

 - PROMPTO -

" — right out of the air! Can you believe it? I still don't know how he did it, but it had to be, right? I mean sure, it _is_ Ignis, but — "

 

 - IGNIS -

Ignis seethed, his elbows on the steering wheel, the dashboard blinking pathetically, gutted and laid out with three daggers buried deep in its innards.

What kind of irresponsible automobile owner abandoned a perfectly serviceable motor vehicle in a parking lot where anybody could find it and then went and died without _fuelling it up beforehand?_

And after he'd gone to all the trouble of removing the fire hazards from the interior. He'd dug through months-old potato salad scum with his _bare hands_.

Ignis looked out into the empty lot. "If you're out there," Ignis said, irate, and hoping any lingering spirits were _properly abashed,_ "Noct is going to have some _words_ with you when he gets back."

 

 - PROMPTO -

" ...hurt a fly! Right? A fly. Because frogs? Uhh, not that I mean it that way. I mean. Nothing wrong with that. I eat flies all the time, completely by accident."

Prompto trailed off, glancing at his travelling companion awkwardly.

The frog stared.

Prompto scratched his neck, embarrassed.

 

 - GLADIO -

Gladio would never admit this out loud, but three dead sabertusks and a mile's worth of stumbling along later, he was starting to miss Prompto's whining.

Sure, it was a little grating at times — at most times, yeah — but whenever one of them was tired, Prompto would notice and would whine about needing a break until they all grumbled and, gratefully, did so. It was one of the kid's good points. _Aren't I off the clock yet?_ he would complain, and with the reminder that one of them, at the least, had a clock to be off, they would concede defeat within the hour, if not right at that moment.

But Gladio was gonna have to power through now until he found Noct, at least. Couldn't do with the King defenseless and alone.

 _C'mon, break time, break time,_ Gladio mentally recited in the chirpiest voice he could imagine.

"Suck it up," he groused to himself, and did feel a little better.

Something to his left made a howling noise. He sighed and lifted his sword.

 

 - IGNIS -

Ignis stared down the car, arms folded impatiently, squinting in the headlight glare. The car did seem _functional,_ merely out of fuel. Normally, one would call for a tow, but the chances that a truck would make it out here in any sort of timely fashion, even if it did know which parking spot they were located at, were slim. Not to mention how obvious it was that the ownership of the car had been recently, and rather forcibly, changed.

But Ignis wasn't about to give up that easily. There had to be some way to salvage the effort he'd expended thus far.

Whenever something wasn't working the way it ought — vending machine, gas pump, Noct — a good kick always seemed to set it in motion when Gladio did it. Ignis glanced around, then brought his foot down sharply on the side of the bonnet.

A sideview mirror fell off with a crash.

 

 - PROMPTO -

"So listen," Prompto said, breaking the silence.

It was almost entirely dark by now. Prompto could see streetlights just a few hundred meters across the field, casting a foggy illumination, and while he didn't quite fancy the prospect of a walk back to town, it sure beat getting eaten by some iron giant and having his bones spit out in the dark. Hell, maybe the others had already met up and taken off without him — that would've been the wise thing to do, until morning anyway.

"I gotta get back, little buddy. My dude. There are some people out there probably... waiting for me." If the others had gotten back to town, well — Prompto wouldn't blame them too much for leaving him behind, but hopefully they'd stick around a little longer and let him catch up.

"Just, Noct is depending on me, you know?" Man. Noct. Noct was the reason he was along for the ride; Prompto couldn't become monster chow out in the wilderness and leave him hanging. What kind of friend would he be? "Noct's uh, he's a friend of mine. And Gladio and Iggy," Prompto added after a moment. "They're also... well, you know, they might be okay without me, but they always make room for me anyway, and sometimes I can make Iggy laugh and it's pretty great. I made him snort his coffee once. And Gladio slaps me on the butt sometimes when he thinks I need cheering up." Prompto paused, trying to keep some emotion in check. "I feel like he really gets me," he confided, a little choked.

They continued along in a relatively companionable silence, narrowly avoiding falling into a small brook when Prompto got his foot stuck in a trench. The frog croaked as Prompto's grip tightened momentarily while he tried to regain his balance.

"Man." Prompto heaved a sullen sigh, shifting the winded-looking frog to his other hand. "I miss them. Well, okay — and my family, and my home too. I dunno though, all of that might be gone. And when I'm with the guys it's like — like I've still got all that, right? Like I've still got everything that matters? I just."

Prompto sniffled. The frog was beginning to look discomfited.

"They're my friends and I just. I love them so much, you know?"

"Ribbit," the frog said, as if to say, _listen kid,_ _I would've been happier in the brook._

A sharp curse rang out.

Prompto's head swivelled. "Did you hear that?"

 

 - GLADIO -

Just as he was beginning to think he was going to have to call it a day and find a tree to sleep in, Gladio finally heaved himself up the last slope, rounded the corner onto the plateau, and stopped.

Ignis, looking mildly disheveled, appeared to be the midst of kicking the shit out of a broken-down car next to a minor scrap heap in an empty parking lot. It wasn't their car. Nearby, Prompto looked as confused as Gladio felt, pistol trained on the car as if trying to determine whether or not it was a threat. There was a frog sitting on his shoulder.

Gladio wasn't sure whether he'd be more alarmed if these were remnants of the side effects from the earlier monster attack, or if this was actually happening. He raised his shield wearily.

Prompto opened his mouth.

"Ribbit," he said. Gladio blinked.

At that moment, the King of Lucis fell out of the sky and landed on him.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 - ????. -

The sun had set completely by the time they had fully rallied. The air was, thankfully, warm despite the earlier rain; the humidity rose up off the asphalt carrying a grassy, muddy scent, suffocating and tinged with a whiff of rot from the junk pile nearby. There wasn't much in the way of moon or stars tonight; the bluffs nearby cast looming shadows that blacked out the horizon, and the few working lamps above the lot cast a sickly, blue, sourceless illumination over them as they surveyed their options.

Prompto was stretched out across the back seat of the broken-down car, his legs dangling out one door. His hair, which had drooped completely despite the considerable amount of gel he had put in it that morning, was visible just inside the other door. Noct was sprawled atop the trunk and half of the roof with his eyes closed, his clothes and hair and bare skin picking up every bit of grime and dust he touched off the metal — his fall had luckily been cushioned enough by Gladio's ass that both of them were only kinda bruised once they'd been peeled apart, and he was trying to dry off now, though he couldn't really say whether he or the car was getting grosser for his being stretched out on it. Ignis was perched irritably atop the hood, his arms crossed, and Gladio was sitting on the ground with his back against one of the deflated wheels, a rather dazed look on his face.

"We've gotta get outta here," Noct mumbled into the sky. "Back into turn... into town."

"Yes, Noct, thank you for your contribution."

"Do you see the chocobos?" Prompto's muffled voice was accompanied by a faint _ribbit_ from somewhere.

"Long fucking gone," Noct sighed, groaning as he turned his stiff neck to one side.

"Don't blame 'em," Gladio said, sounding strained.

Ignis made a noise of irritation. "Does anyone have any idea of how far it is from town?"

"Where are we, even?"

"Can we just stay here?" Prompto suggested hopefully.

 _"No,"_ came three curt voices at once, and Prompto's legs rapidly withdrew into the depths of the car.

"Daemons, Prompto," Noct said pointedly.

"And we haven't any curatives," Ignis said. "Unless you would like to stay behind alone, and take the heat off our backs."

"Surprised they haven't found us already."

"They have," Ignis said.

There was cursing and banging as Gladio launched himself up, Prompto scrambled upright with a _weeeh_ noise, and Noct fell off the top of the car. "What? Where?"

Ignis jerked his thumb without looking, and when Noct squinted, he could make out a few skittering creatures just at the edge of the lot.

"Ah, shit."

"Oh _no,_ " Prompto whimpered.

"They've been here for half an hour," Ignis said, dropping his arm.

Noct frowned. "Why aren't they attacking?"

"It's the headlights," Ignis said shortly. "Thank the Astrals those are working, at least."

" _This_ piece of junk's got daemon-repelling lights?"

"Shame, isn't it," Ignis said to no-one in particular. He still seemed rather sore about it.

Prompto clutched his chest. "We're saved," he gasped.

"We are _not sleeping in the car,"_ Ignis reiterated with force.

"Well, I ain't taking a hike _away_ from the car," Noct interjected.

"Ain't disagreeing with that."

"So... but then... what do we do?"

 

 - A ROAD -

"Left! Left. Iggy?" Noct gave the door a couple bangs with his fist.

The car steered left by a few degrees, narrowly missing mounting concrete divider and grinding into the rails. "My apologies," Ignis said from within.

Somewhere in the shadows to his left, an imp or two chittered as the car's high beams kept them from approaching their prey. Noct groaned. The car creaked forwards a few more inches as he shoved with all his might, but they'd been steadily slowing for a few minutes now, and his boots scraped slightly as the soles failed to find purchase on the pavement. He raised his head to peer over the roof, trying to catch his breath. "Prompto?"

Prompto appeared to be half-asleep and intensely disheartened. It wasn't entirely clear whether he was pushing the car, or the car was dragging him along, draped over the side. "Sorry." He blinked himself awake and glanced back. "Doing okay back there, big guy?"

Gladio didn't answer.

Noct hesitated and let go for a moment.

The car kept inching forwards, so Gladio was obviously still alive.

Noct shook out his hands, and then started pushing again.

 

 - ANOTHER ROAD? -

"Wait! Stop," Ignis declared.

The car creaked to a stall. Prompto and Gladio looked at Noct, baffled.

"I believe we've taken the wrong exit."

Noct turned and squinted. The last fork in the road was maybe a few hundred feet back.

As Noct tried to reposition himself to execute a three-point turn, Prompto made a strange noise from the other side. "Hey uh, Gladio, where are your shoes?"

Gladio looked down, confused.

 

 - BACK TO THE FIRST ROAD -

"I swear the sign said to keep left."

"Keep left? It's a single-lane highway."

"Huh. Are you sure?"

"Am I sure — how many lanes do _you_ see?"

"Well, I mean, it's not like anybody else is out here, anyway..."

 

 - LEFT LANE -

After about fifteen minutes of starting and stopping, the car finally came to a halt.

Considering that their journey was currently being fuelled exclusively by elbow grease, this development was concerning. Noct gave the car a hard shove. His feet slid. Nothing happened.

After a few minutes of _hrnngh_ and _guuuh_ noises from the left and the right of the car, Ignis stuck his head out the window, and Noct straightened up, perplexed. Prompto met his eyes over the top of the car helplessly, and as one, they all looked back.

Gladio was standing twenty feet behind, barefoot, under a streetlight, frowning off the side of the road.

"Uh," Noct said.

Gladio, sensing the query, nodded at the horizon. "Made it."

Noct looked around them. They were in the middle of nowhere. On one side of the road, a low cliff half-buried in an avalanche of vines rose up to obscure the view. On the other side, a few empty grain silos and a busted old barn were the only things breaking up the landscape. A distant pack of havocfangs howled in the night, and what might've been an arachne giggled from the bushes across the way, but aside from that, it was dead silent.

Prompto twisted around, twice, and squinted. "You mean the... haven?"

Noct turned towards where Prompto was looking and did see wisp of pale smoke rising through the darkness about half a mile that way. He looked at Gladio. Gladio made a satisfied sound, eyes glazed.

Noct rolled his eyes and shook out his arm. "I don't want to camp, Gladio, okay?" He tried not to whine, but yeah, that was a whine, no question about it. His headache was blazing tight around his temples, and his throat felt like he'd swallowed a strip of sandpaper. "Not today." _Not most days. Definitely not today._

Gladio made a face, and usually he'd give Noct shit for being a brat here, but he only said, "Nn. Agreed."

"Then..." Noct trailed off. "You gonna give us a hand?"

"No."

"Gladio..."

"I'm done," he said.

Prompto peered closer. "Big guy? You look kinda pale."

Gladio nodded decisively. "Yeah," he said, took a step towards the wisp of smoke rising from the haven, and then tumbled to the ground.

 

 - PRECARIOUS HALF MILE OH GODS -

"I had noticed him sneezing more than usual earlier, come to think of it. Allergies, I thought."

"Huh. Doesn't he have meds for those? Gladio?"

"Hunnh..."

"He should, but we've been out of — well, most things, for a couple days now. Truth be told, I've been feeling slightly off myself."

"You're kidding! Really? Me too! Maybe it's the weather?"

An inhuman screech echoed from within their vicinity, before: _"Guys, a little help here?"_

 

\- HOME: THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. -

"So I don't understand," Noct said blandly to no one in particular, "how none of us mentioned that we were all _dying_."

The fire sent up a helpful spark with a _crack._ Noct flicked a spoonful of beans at it and it hissed happily as his stomach roiled again. He watched as the beans sizzled and blackened; as if he was ever going to eat them, anyway.

Prompto wept over his own can of beans from behind him, their backs pressed together to ward off the chill. "Guys, I feel like I got stepped on by a treant," he was gasping into his bandanna. Noct could feel his ribs vibrating under the blankets they had piled around themselves; Prompto seemed relieved to have this burden off his shoulders. Maybe too relieved. "I feel like I just got a full-body massage from a bulette using two bandersnatches as mittens. I am _so glad_ you all feel the same."

Across from them, Gladio was laid out flat on his stomach at the edge of the haven, cheek pressed to the rock, head over the side so that he could puke. He'd been doing basically just that since they'd dragged him across the mud from the road twenty minutes ago, the Royal Arms activated and Noct screaming _"Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Fuck you too! Bring it on! Come get it!"_ into the sky while Prompto yelped _"No, no, we're fine here actually, sorry about him, don't, Noct"_ in a bid to keep the daemons away. It was a minor miracle they'd made it unscathed, whereupon Gladio had crawled right to the edge of the campground and not moved again.

Ignis had somehow gotten separated from them during the journey and arrived first, albeit with singed hair and a new bend in the bridge of his glasses, such that the campfire was already built and emitting a suspicious color of smoke. He was now somewhere to the left of them, behind the campfire, muttering and struggling with an enormous quantity of canvas material.

"Leave the tent, Iggy," Noct groaned without looking.

"Gods forbid I prevent us from dying of exposure," Ignis snapped, as Prompto coughed and made a horking sound like a coeurl trying to spit up a hairball.

"Specs, do you even know which way is up?"

"The pointy side," Ignis hissed.

"Iggy," Gladio's raised voice finally came, hoarse and distant from the edge of the campsite. "Lie the fuck down."

The tent collapsed. Muffled cursing could be heard.

"Someone help him," Noct said half-heartedly.

"You do it."

 _"Hells_ no."

 

The compromise they eventually arrived at involved the tent tarp draped over four greatswords and two polearms jammed straight into the rock, held in place with a few daggers. Nobody could bring themselves to care about the damage done to either the tarp or the weapons, all of which would require considerable repair in the morning. Then they had to cram themselves inside.

Cajoling Gladio away from the edge of the rock took a lot of effort, actually, especially since neither Prompto nor Noct was willing to leave their nest of blankets, and Ignis kept trying to touch Noct's forehead and feed him beans, and Noct kept trying to pass the beans off onto Prompto, and Prompto was trying meekly to convince Ignis when doctors said _drink lots of fluids_ they probably didn't mean coffee, hey Iggy, maybe you should get some rest? And then Gladio threw up again before Ignis could stab Prompto for it, thank the Astrals.

They finally managed to herd everyone under the vaguely tent-shaped shelter, and after some scuffling and a lot of protesting, discovered that by setting Gladio closest to the entrance, Gladio could lean out to hurl if he needed to, and his legs served as a sort of low barrier to prevent Ignis from getting up in any misguided attempt to be helpful.

That last push had depleted the last of their energy reserves. They laid in a stunned, aggrieved tangle under the lopsided tarp, too done to arrange themselves into anything more comfortable than a heap.

"So like, I haven't been this sick in a while. Whew," Prompto said. He blew on the steaming mug of what would've been tea if they'd had any, but was just really water with a few slices of ginger and lemon. He sipped it and made a face. "Is this the same thing we've all got, you think?"

"Likely," Ignis sighed.

"Who got it first? Is it a cold, do colds usually do this to you guys? Gladio?"

"Dunno. Don't get sick," Gladio grumbled. He received three withering stares in response.

"Is this like the time you tried to walk off a broken ankle," Noct said flatly.

"Hey, can it!"

"So you're saying you're impervious to illness and disease?"

"Oblivious, rather," Ignis remarked. "And stubbornly so."

 _"You_ ain't one to talk."

"Beg pardon?"

"Okay, yeah, Ignis, you can't actually walk off food poisoning either," Noct said. "Not even you."

"What? Ignis cooks everything, why would he get — dude," Prompto said, betrayed. "I _trusted_ you."

"Only ever accidentally poisons himself, to be fair," Gladio said, nobody questioning that qualifier.

"Nonsense, I never fall _ill."_

"Once when Specs was thirteen, he ate something and got a fever and thought I was a possessed kujata doll," Noct volunteered.

Prompto sniggered. "And were you?"

"To this day, he has no proof he wasn't," Ignis said scathingly.

Prompto sighed. "I can't feel my nose anymore," he said mournfully, and flopped over into Noct's lap. Noct was already halfway out of commission, propped against Gladio's legs. He made a noise of hot protest but didn't move. "Tomorrow, when we get to the hotel, I'm gonna spend three hours in the bath. Gonna put my phone in a plastic baggie, get takeout noodles, buy a gallon of fizzy soap. Just dive in. Not even gonna take my clothes off."

"You're gonna have to share if you do," Gladio said, and he didn't even sound flirty. Just exhausted. Maybe he didn't have it in him.

"Curatives. Curatives and," Ignis emphasized, "Supplies, _first,"_ at the same time as Prompto said, "Ohh! Think we could spring for a hot tub?"

"Guys, shut up," Noct cut off, eyes closed and head tilted back. "Can we not worry about this right now? We'll trade in the stuff and figure it out, okay? Go t'sleep. Love you."

At _that,_ identical odd expressions flitted across both Ignis's and Prompto's faces.

Their mouths clicked shut as they turned their heads to look at Noct, who yawned exactly once, relaxed, snaked one arm around Gladio's knee, and was dead to the world within seconds.

"Did you hear..." Prompto trailed off and tried not to choke.

Gladio made an amused sound. "Bet you wish you had your phone out for that," he said, but shifted his knee gently to tilt Noct against Ignis's side.

Ignis's mouth was twitching, but he said nothing. He reached out and slid a hand over Noct's forehead. A dusting of dirt sifted off Noct's fringe, but Noct just wrinkled his nose a bit and resumed sleeping.

"Well. At least with all of us ill with the same ailment, we need not be too careful about being in close proximity," Ignis said, voice softer. "Noct's right. We can head back in the morning — "

"How about afternoon," Prompto whispered, twisting around from his spot on Noct's lap.

"How 'bout whenever," Gladio corrected, stretching out, his eyes sliding shut with a last ruffle of Noct's hair and nudge of his arm against Prompto's elbow.

Ignis shuffled about a little, seemingly searching for something, before he apparently remembered that his phone was... not here.

Prompto watched apprehensively as Ignis sat up, staring pensively at the crinkled wall of tarp before him. Outside, the campfire was burning low, backlight shading the tent walls a flat orange; the rain outside was starting up again, pattering against the canvas, a rush and whisper against the glowing haven stone, tiny hisses and cracks as the firewood dampened and small _ting_ sounds where the empty cans of beans were being washed clean by the sky.

Then Ignis sighed. "Reasonable enough," he murmured, and took off his glasses.

Prompto's last thought before drifting off was that Ignis Scientia flopping over into bed — into the disgusting, muddy, gluey, sweaty, phlegm-clogged pile of limbs and fluff and blankets and grass-stained clothing that was the rest of them — just maybe, _might've_ made the day worth it.

 

 - THE NEXT AFTERNOON -

"Oh, _fuck,_ the — guys, the car! How're we gonna get back?"

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, long exhale.

 

 

 

 - MEANWHILE, -

"So," the bartender hedged. "So you're saying you... you _were_ a frog."

The haggard-looking hunter shot him a haunted look over the bar counter. The diner was thankfully empty; the hunter had looked like death warmed over when she'd stumbled in twenty minutes prior, hair like a tumbleweed, covered head-to-toe in dried mud and gunk and some stuff the bartender didn't want to look at too closely. She was breaking the no-shoes-no-service rule too, after she'd tossed hers into the bin outside — too big, they looked like, probably discarded and then borrowed from someone else — but he felt kind of bad turning her away. She could use a glass of water, at the least.

"And you were _gonna_ trade in that bounty today, but your car broke down. And then... someone stole the car," the bartender continued slowly. "And then... towed it _away_ from town. And left it in the middle of nowhere."

The hunter glared miserably at him.

"And daemons don't like frogs. So you were fine, though you can't remember much about it. Until this morning, when you woke up in the trunk. And you... _weren't_ a frog."

"Anymore," she said.

"Anymore," he amended. "And whoever stole the car had tossed out all your stuff, and the hunt was gone by then, and you had to hike back to town, and that's... that's why you're flat broke now."

She nodded, glowering, and then her face scrunched up. The bartender winced leaned back just in time, narrowly missing being caught by the end of an enormous sneeze.

"Sounds like you caught a cold," he added. The hunter said nothing, but hunched further over the counter and wiped at her nose, wilting pathetically.

The bartender sighed, leaned back, reached towards the kitchen window.

"Here. Soup's on the house," he said when he returned, sliding the bowl across the counter. He gave her a sympathetic clap on the shoulder.

She sniffled miserably and accepted the spoon.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _"I typed your symptoms into the thing up here, and it says you could have network connectivity problems."_   
>  \- Andy Dwyer, Parks and Rec
> 
> 1) Hunt: **An Omen Crawls Upon the Ground, Grootslang x2, Kelbass Grasslands (All Times), Level 68, 26,840 gil.** From the Grootslang bestiary page: "Relative of the midgardsormr previously believed extinct. Folk tales rumor the beast to be the harbinger of a plague, and sightings invariably induce panic among the people. While links to a contagion are yet unproven, its ominous presence nevertheless warrants caution."
> 
> 2) [Noct warping himself straight up into the air while confused.](https://dizzymoogle.tumblr.com/post/169194680692/slo-mo-noctis-warp-fail-dies-laughing-watch-a) Heh.
> 
> 3) [Again because it's _hilarious._](https://twitter.com/ssstluc123/status/942026922866782208) I didn't even know he could! Amazing. 
> 
> 4) This turned out... longer than I expected. Sorry about this, guys. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks all for reading! Comment, kudos or drop by and say hi to make my day! :) [mushydesserts @ tumblr](https://mushydesserts.tumblr.com)


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